Here's a picture I took today of my growing out hair. It actually doesn't look too horrible, because I spent a foolish amount of time blow drying it with a round brush, and the headband pushes the Dorothy Hamill bowl-ness back away from my face. Thank the good lord baby Jesus for headbands.
I always feel really awkward photographing myself, and end up making really goofy smirk faces that I can't seem to help. And I have a lot of moles, which I must talk about a lot, because the number of people who search phrases like, "pretty moles" or "a lot of moles" or "weird mole with hair growing out of it" is crazy high for a non mole themed blog.
- In the car on the way home from Julian's school yesterday, I heard Audrey say, "No, Juju! Dis!" And then Julian said, "Eeew. No, Audrey." So I asked what was up. And he told me that he was eating the remainder of his sandwich from lunch, and when Audrey saw that, she picked a booger and offered it to him. Blehhhh. And kind of thoughtful?
- We have a neighbor behind us in the woods who has a Harley. Or some other really loud kind of motorcycle. It's crazy loud. And he works on it all the motherhumping time, revving the engine at all hours of the day. He's even done it at 1:30 in the morning, which is when I decided that living in the woods can eat my balls because we ended up with a bunch of crazy redneck neighbors who think it's cool to do stuff like that.
Anyway, he was revving his motorcycle really loudly yesterday afternoon and Julian got so pissed about it. I told him that it wasn't my favorite sound, but the neighbor was free to work on his bike and make noise because it wasn't super late. But Julian would have none of it. So he took his new recorder (you know, the plastic flutey instrument) out in the back yard and played the only song he knows on the recorder, Ode to Joy, as loud as he could to let the neighbor know that his loudness was unacceptable. That'll show him, Julian. Playing a happy song on a plastic whistle is the best way to get your message across clearly!
- I keep telling Wade that instead of being a sound guy/professor, he should be a chiropractor just because I want someone to crack my back all day long. I don't think he'll make a career change like that just for me though.